


Saturday's Alright For Fighting

by myriddin



Series: No Apologies [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cousins, F/M, Forbidden Love, Foul Language, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7261588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myriddin/pseuds/myriddin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Game of Ships Seven Hells challenge, Day 1: Pride AND the valar_kinkmeme, prompt from Anon: Jon/Sansa, Arya/Gendry, "I'd rather fight with you all night, than never have you in my life."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday's Alright For Fighting

**Author's Note:**

> Sansa and Jon's first cousin relationship still applies, and they feel really, REALLY guilty about it.

Run-down and poorly lit, it wasn't a place Jon would frequent on a normal occasion, but the moment he slammed the door and walked out, his first and foremost priority had been to put as much distance between himself and the apartment as humanly possible. So here he found himself, looking through the fog of hazy smoke and dim lighting to try and spot a free stool. He swerved to narrowly avoid a swaying couple more involved with groping each other than paying attention to where they were going, and with a roll of his eyes, he trudged over to the bar and ordered a double whiskey on the rocks.

The alcohol was a familiar feeling, going down smooth but burning, the amber liquid translucent in the pallid glow of the neon lights on the wall, the clink of ice against the glass prompting him to raise a finger to the bartender for another round. His body felt heavier, languid, and a hazy feeling clouded him perception. The memory of that evening's fight was becoming equally as fuzzy, however, so he kept drinking.

His nose filled with the scent of a heavy floral perfume, his first warning before he felt the sudden proximity of an individual, sitting on the next stool and leaning close. He lazily opened an eye to investigate.

The woman smiled at him, reaching out to rest painted nails against Jon's forearm. "Hey sexy, will you buy me a drink?"

Jon shook his head, pulling his arm back. “Sorry, darlin’. I’m taken, but the ginger-haired fellow over by the dartboards has been trying to get up the courage to talk to you for the past ten minutes.”

The woman blinked with surprise, turning her head in the direction Jon had indicated to spot said red-headed man, who quickly looked away with an endearing shade of pink in his cheeks. She arched an intrigued brow. “Thanks, stranger.”

Jon shrugged and raised his glass in a mock salute. “Have a good night.”

“It’s a good thing you turned her down, I would’ve had to kick your ass otherwise.”

Jon grimaced as the owner of the familiar voice plopped down beside him. “Why are you here, Arya?”

Arya huffed. Jon didn’t even have to look over to know she was rolling his eyes at his tone. “Sansa’s been calling everyone looking for you. She’s worrying herself sick that you left in the middle of November without a jacket. _Or_ your phone. Next time you’re going to take off on my sister, have the fucking courtesy to at least make sure she knows your sorry ass isn’t getting hypothermia or bleeding in some alleyway.” She tossed a familiar leather jacket at him, the pocket heavy with the weight of his cell.

Jon winced. “She was that worried?”

“Damn right she was. You two seriously need to get your acts together. You’re cousins and you’re fucking. Who cares?”

“You know it’s not that easy.”

“Maybe not everyone, but for you two, right now, it has to be. Keeping this a secret is tearing you both apart and being away from each other just seems to make things worse. So I’m telling you to suck it up, march back over there and do what you have to so that my sister stops feeling like the scum of the earth.”

Jon was silent for a moment and then he was sliding his drink over toward Arya, steady as he got to his feet and shrugged into his jacket. “I will. And Arya?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Gendry knows about you two, by the way. It was hard to keep it from him when Sansa was frantic as she was.”

“That’s fine.” Jon replied as he threw a few wrinkled bills on the bar. "He kept you oblivious to his feelings for years before you finally figured it out, I guess he can keep a secret.”

Jon’s last sight of his younger cousin before he left the bar was her flashing him her middle finger.

A rush of cold air hit Jon as he went out the door and he drew his jacket tighter around himself. He sighed, the rushing expanse of breath creating a white, wispy cloud in the air. He felt oddly numb, absently reaching up to rub a cold hand over his face.

He hated to fight with her, but secrecy and fear had a way of getting to a person. Lust, love, shame, guilt, it all mixed up together until arguments came more and more frequently, and while logic dictated that they should spend time apart, even attempt a clean break until they could get one another out of their systems, they had tried it all before. Arya had the right of it- staying away just made everything worse.

A sudden vibrating at his hip distracted him from thinking further, as he dug his cell phone from his pocket and pressed the accept without bothering to check the ID. He knew who was calling. “Sansa.”

"Jon?” The voice that greeted her was achingly familiar. Quiet and tentative.

"…yeah…"

The person on the other end hesitated, and Jon's chest tightened as he heard an audible sniffle. "Are…are you alright? You just took off, and it's late now. I was worried when you didn't come back."

"Yea, I'm fine. Sansa, I…" he trailed off, making a face as he struggled to find words.

Another heartbreaking sniffle. "Come home. Please?"

Jon flagged down a taxi the moment they hung up.

+++

Sansa was waiting for him when Jon walked through the door. She was wearing one of those thin robes of barely-there material that gave Jon the urge to take her back to bed and wrap her up to keep her warm, wrap himself around her until she felt nothing but warm, safe, and cared for. She looked so vulnerable his heart ached, her eyes red-rimmed and moist as she glanced up at Jon hesitantly, arms wrapped around herself.

"I'm glad you're back," she whispered softly, warm sincerity filling her words, and the last of Jon's resistance broke.

He kicked off his shoes and dropped his jacket on the floor with uncharacteristic untidiness, stepping forward to take the girl he loved into his arms. He pressed his lips to her and Sansa responded wholeheartedly as they kissed softly, sweetly, melting into each other with relief.

When they parted, Sansa rested her forehead against her lover’s, inwardly awed by the rare open, soft expression that fell over Jon's face. Gray eyes fluttered open and he sported a small smile. Sansa kissed the contented curve to her lover's lips, sighing softly. "Jon."

Jon reached down to take her hands, their fingers intertwining. Sansa smiled softly, tugging on their joined hands as she led him back to his bedroom. She lay back on the bed, resting her head against a pillow as she watched Jon get undressed. Trading a subtle armor of denim and black for boxers and a t-shirt, he slipped in after Sansa. Sansa snuggled up to him immediately.

"I hate when we fight," Sansa said softly as she laid her head against his shoulder.

Jon made a sound of agreement as he pulled the covers up over them, wrapping an arm around her. "I know. And I'm sorry."

“I’m sorry, too.”

“You have no reason to apologize.”

Sansa smiled, nestling closer to tuck her head beneath Jon's chin. "Well, if you insist."

Jon huffed out a laugh. "Go to sleep, San.”

“Good night, Jon. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

They fell quiet, and for a long while, all there was were the dual sounds of their breathing, eventually easing into the slow, deep patterns of sleep.

 


End file.
